


Fragments

by MeriBotti



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Character Study, First Kiss, First Love, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, That may change, for now the focus is more on mahariel and tamlen, the character death is tamlen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 04:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15573342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeriBotti/pseuds/MeriBotti
Summary: A collection of short standalone scenes and general pondering, centered around my warden Valo Mahariel. The stuff is going to be largely centered on the relationships he has over the years. For now there's two chapters, there may come more or there may not. THERE IS NO PLOT. There's just a warden who's too busy wallowing in self pity and heartbreak.





	1. On who he is

Valo grew up closely with Tamlen. They were both Ashalle’s orphans, and so they were always attached at the hip. They slept together in Valo’s parents’ old aravel in a pile of pillows and furs. They snickered at Paivel’s dramatic stories, which they’d heard a dozen times over, and they got into trouble for it together. They once snuck into master Ilen’s stores, took one of his bows and tried to pull the string together. They got into trouble for that too. When Merrill was taken into the clan, the two of them adopted her into their duo of orphans, and from then on they were a trio. A trio of orphans, still attached at the hip.

When they were teens romance became a part Tamlen and Valo’s relationship. They never said anything out loud, but they knew they were past being friends, or even brothers. They still did everything together, they still acted like they always had. All that had changed was that now they would steal kisses when no one was looking, and the intimacy, which had always been a part of their relationship, changed its meaning. Merrill was the only one aware of this, and she never said anything either. The three of them had grown up to be almost codependent of each other. And there were certain things, things they all were aware of, that they had collectively decided to ignore.

Like how they all knew that Tamlen and Valo would soon have to stop hunting together. Because while Tamlen was well on his way to becoming the next huntmaster, the adults had been talking. About how Paivel would soon be taking Valo under his full apprenticeship. How Valo would have to stop running around forests, and dedicate all his time to studying. Because he was going to become the next Hahren. His father had been the Keeper after all. Even though Valo hadn’t inherited his magic everyone seemed to agree that there was some merit there regardless. That somehow leading was in his blood.

And perhaps Valo would have preferred being able to hunt with Tamlen forever, but they were all taught from a young age to think of the good of the People before their personal wants. It was how the dalish made sure more of their culture wouldn’t be lost. Sometimes it was cruel, but they accepted it. So they both thought of the People, as they grasped onto fleeting moments, simply trying to make every second count.

The adults were talking of other things too. The three of them knew that many were hoping for Valo and Merrill to eventually become bonded. Merrill was a mage and Valo’s father had been one as well. Their children would most likely inherit that. And it wasn’t as though they were being forced to do anything. Paivel and Ashalle may have both clumsily encouraged them to spend more time together without Tamlen, but in the end no one would force them to do anything.

No.

The scary part was that they would do it out of their own free will. They would do it because they were friends, and preserving the magic of the People would be worth it. They had been taught so, it was their responsibility.

At least they were friends.

They never spoke of that either, but they knew. It was in Merrill’s soft, sad smiles, that she sometimes directed at the boys. It was in the way Valo clung to every moment of freedom he had left, before he’d have to take on his vallaslin and become an adult. It was in the growing desperation in Tamlen’s kisses. It was in the resignation in their hearts.

It would be worth it. They wouldn’t be sad. They wouldn’t be happy either.

 

Years later, Valo has learned more about the world than what he had thought there was to learn. His eyes have been ruined by poison for almost a decade, and Zevran still blames himself for that. He doesn’t have all that much time left, but he’s become numb to the grimness of it all. He isn’t content, there’s always more secrets to find, and it’s his greatest grievance that he could never know them all. But he can stop now without regretting too many things. A lot of that is thanks to Zevran. His original window to the unknown wonders of the world outside a clan.

After Tamlen had died, Valo had existed with only a silent death wish for the longest year of his life. When he thinks back on it now, he realizes that he had already considered himself as a good as dead, long before that. Him, Tamlen and Merrill, having made the choices that they did, had done that to themselves. Forfeited their lives. And what a revelation it had been, to realize that one can breathe and still be dead.

He doesn’t think he’s ever going to be alright with the past, but he’s moving. He’s with Zevran, and he’s learning. Still changing. He’s living, and that’s all he can do, and it’s enough for him to make him believe he’s alright with his present.


	2. On kisses (Tamlen/Valo centric)

Our first kiss was one we shared in secret.

It was our first overnight hunt, and we were caught in a storm. We huddled together in a cave, intending to wait out the worst of it beside a barely crackling campfire.

We hadn’t caught anything but we were giddy and happy regardless.

I remember your wet shoulder plastered against mine, sticking to it like glued, and I remember having the strange desire to be stuck to you like that forever. I remember you looking at me with your pond-like eyes, and leaning towards me, and everything around us had seemed so loud then. The rain, the fire, the wind and the trees, and even my breath. Our lips were cold and trembling, and the kiss itself was so light that it was like a feather had landed on my mouth instead of you.

It was our secret. Something that we had experienced alone away from the clan, as just us, and not as Tamlen and Valo of clan Sabrae.

Our final kiss was for the world to see.

You found me, and I was so happy. And guilty. I had abandoned you. I should have kept looking. I knew you weren’t dead, but everyone acted like you were, and I had foolishly convinced myself I believed it. But you found me, and you were terrible.

With sick skin covered in scabs and puss and your soft hair fallen away. I could barely make out the vallaslin on your face. You’d told me how you liked the idea of finding lost secrets of the elvhen. Dirthamen was disappearing from your face, as though the ink itself wanted to escape your corrupted body.

I didn’t care. I would have had you as you were, if only your mind could have been saved.

And everyone was watching.

You told me you were sorry and I wanted to ask what for. What did you have to be sorry for when it was I who abandoned you to your fate?

I kissed Zevran while crying many times afterwards, but before that day I only had memories of sweet and passionate kisses with you. I couldn’t imagine how awful it could be to have your lips on mine, and feel none of the happy and safe feelings kissing you had always inspired in me. I only tasted blood and rot and the salt of my own tears, and felt only dread at what I knew you’d ask me to do.

You said you loved me, and instead of mending my heart those words shattered it like glass. For years we both craved to hear those words from each other, but we never even tried to say them. We accepted that I would become hahren and get bonded to Merrill, and you would stay a hunter and also start a family.

How could we?

I thought the regret alone would crush me right then. We loved each other, we knew that we did. And we loved so much! We all but lived sharing a single heart. How did we ever think we could ignore that? Pretending that as long as we didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real.

You finally said those words, and cruelly asked me to kill you in the same breath.

I had to bury you in a strange forest, in a grave that’s lost under moss and grass by now, and the tree I planted for you will never feel a friend’s sentimental presence, because no one will ever know it’s yours.

I miss you every day, and I hope you can forgive me, for not breaking you in the same way you broke me. For not answering your “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a skilled writer at all. I have only very recently started actually coming back to my various drafts with the intention to edit them into a readable state. If you feel that you have some advice for me, or if you pointed out some issue with my writing, feel free to spread the kindness and tell me. I promise not to bite your head off. Thank you for reading! Have a nice day or a fulfilling night of staying up too late you damn night owl.


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